


Snowflakes

by bjbookcase



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-21
Updated: 2017-12-21
Packaged: 2019-02-17 21:21:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13085604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bjbookcase/pseuds/bjbookcase
Summary: A walk in the snow, an old song, and a snowglobe. Sometimes the oddest things bring people together.





	Snowflakes

> “ _How full of the creative genius is the air in which  
>  __these are generated! I should hardly admire more  
>  __if real stars fell and lodged on my coat_.”

> Henry David Thoreau, 1856

* * *

_Snowflakes that stay on my nose and eyelashes_ …..

Kathryn smiled as she tramped along, following the pair of Irish Setters gamboling ahead of her. The words were from an old, old song that had been playing in the background when Tom commed her earlier in the day, letting her know what time she and her mother were expected this evening. With Voyager’s first officer TAD at Starfleet Headquarters pending the birth of their second child, the Parises decided to host a small, get-together for the senior staff preceding the annual Voyager Christmas party. “Former staff,” Kathryn reminded herself. Everyone planned to be there….at least everyone who was in-system. Tuvok and T’Pel were returning from a visit to a grandson on the Norval Colony and were uncertain if their transport would get them to Earth in time for the parties. Chakotay…..Her smile faded.

Captain Chakotay was stuck out in the former Cardassian neutral zone, ferrying a Federation ambassador between those colony worlds whose status was still in limbo after the war. He’d sent his regrets in his last communiqué.

Kathryn sighed and looked up, studying the lead-gray skies. Snowflakes were definitely staying on this first day of December, blanketing the countryside in white. Not that snow was unusual in Indiana this time of year; what was unusual was how much she was enjoying it. After all, she was Admiral Kathryn Janeway, erstwhile captain of the USS Voyager, a bona fide, card-carrying child of the twenty-fourth century, fully vested in the benefits of climate control, cheap energy resources, thermo-dynamic micro-fibers, and instantaneous global communication and transportation. A late afternoon stroll across the cold, frozen fields with only her dogs for company was something that occurred all too rarely in her busy life.

“And why is that?” she wondered as she came to a standstill, her clear blue eyes wandering the snow-covered fields around her. She might grumble about it, but she enjoyed spending time outdoors probably just as much as the average person. “As long as there’s a bathtub or reasonable facsimile nearby,” she appended, smiling at the thought of one of her favorite indulgences. One didn’t have to go totally rustic to appreciate the outdoors.

Bathtub….the bathtub he crafted for her. Kathryn’s smile turned wistful. Now there was a memory she seldom let escape the hidden recesses of her heart. Did it still sit in the clearing where their shelter stood, filling with leaves and other debris, slowly disintegrating back into the soil, nourishing a new stand of trees?

They certainly couldn’t have done that with the shelter: too much technology involved in its fabrication to chance it being discovered. Besides, considering Voyager’s limited resources, it was only logical to recycle its components. Just as it was logical to leave her bathtub behind.

So why did it feel as if she left a piece of herself behind on New Earth when Voyager returned, freeing them from their insect-bite induced exile? She gained so much in those weeks, freed from responsibility and duty, exploring a new world with only her former XO for company – if you didn’t count the monkey. It was the start of a close and lasting friendship; a friendship Kathryn treasured above all others.

“Even when one or the other of us would have gladly murdered the other.” Her eyes clouded, losing focus as she stared at an unseen horizon.

Had they fought so passionately because it was the only release possible for all those feelings simmering beneath the surface? Feelings they carefully sublimated their remaining years in the Delta Quadrant; a tacit, if unspoken, agreement the needs of their crew came at the price of their own wants and desires. It seemed a sound decision at the time, but in the end?

“In the end, it nearly cost us even friendship.” Suddenly restless, Kathryn began walking again.

Oh, the command structure rattled on. Yet, as the years passed, more and more often there seemed to be something missing in their interactions, some drain on the energy that once flowed freely between them. A major crisis might bring a bit of that energy crackling to the surface, but they’d lost the ability to tap into its source. Unsettled by this, they reacted by pulling even further away from each other. By the time Voyager catapulted back into the Alpha Quadrant courtesy of the Borg’s transwarp hub, their friendship was floundering, its energy all but gone.

“And we nearly left it at that.” Kathryn shook her head, thinking back to their return. “Not that we had a lot of time to do anything, let a lone salvage a relationship, with everything that happened.”

Endless debriefings, thwarting a Borg attempt at biological warfare, cutting her admiral’s teeth on the Romulan debacle…..And let’s not to forget the near-fatal ending to Chakotay’s first mission as captain of Voyager. Events had taken off at break-neck speed from the day they returned and hadn’t slowed down since. If time spent together professionally was limited, on a personal level – except for social events involving the entire crew – it was close to nonexistent.

Yet somehow, in the midst of all that chaos and confusion, a faint spark persisted and she and Chakotay found themselves unable to let it just fizzle out. Not without at least an attempt at mending their connection. It had taken most of the two years since their return, but they gradually worked their way back to the comfortable camaraderie that defined their relationship in the early years of their Delta Quadrant journey.

“Comfortable,” Kathryn sighed. “So why does it feel like things still aren’t quite in balance between us?”

_Snowflakes that stay on my nose and eyelashes_ …..

More than willing to be distracted from the somber direction of her thoughts were taking, Kathryn lifted her face, letting the gently falling flakes caress her skin. You had to admit, in all the vast universe, there were few things as ingenious as a snowflake. And few things that intrigued both her artistic and scientific sides. While the artist was fascinated by the stark beauty of something of which no two were ever exactly alike, the scientist knew that within that uniqueness there resided an intrinsic symmetry that defined the very essence of a snowflake. “Six identical crystalline arms growing from the hexagonal lattice structure of an ice molecule,” she recited from some long ago school lesson.

Raising one gloved hand to eye level, Kathryn studied the small, white shapes that landed on it. Unfortunately, the perfect symmetry didn’t last long; her body heat radiating up through the material of her glove began melting bits and pieces almost as soon as the flakes touched down. Funny how quickly you lost what made a snowflake a snowflake when you took those bits and pieces away. “Take away part and you unbalanced the whole,” she murmured, shaking the remaining fragments of ice from her hand.

And then laughed. “Good grief,” she scolded herself. “First I’m moping about the difficulties of keeping a friendship alive, and now I’m turning maudlin over melting snowflakes.” It was definitely time to head back indoors and fortify herself with a steaming cup of coffee. “Too bad Chakotay’s missing tonight’s party. He’d get a good laugh at how sappy I can get over snowflakes.”

Party…..Dammit, she’d nearly forgotten about the party.

“Here Callie, here Missy, here girls,” she called as she spotted the setters, dirt and snow flying all around them in their enthusiastic hunt for ground squirrels. She hated to spoil their fun, but, “Time to head home.”

* * *

The annual Christmas party for the USS Voyager’s former crew and their families was in full swing when a tall, broad-shouldered man, dressed in the dazzling white of a Starfleet dress uniform, paused for a moment in the entrance to the grand ballroom. Warm, brown eyes surveyed the scene before him, noting with pleasure the exuberance, the gaiety, and, above all, the happiness emanating from the clusters of party-goers filling the room. He was struck, not for the first time, by how readily he’d come to think of this seemingly disparate group of people not just as fellow crewmembers, but as family. His family.

“Speaking of family. . . .” A very pregnant, but very determined, half-Klingon was heading his way. Chakotay moved to meet her. “Hey, little sister,” he exclaimed, pulling her into a tight embrace – well, as tight as he could make it around her protruding stomach. “Spirits, is that a baby or a full-grown targ you’re carrying?”

“Laugh it up, old man, but remember who you’re laughing at. Unexpected systems failures are such a bitch,” B’Elanna growled into his chest. Pushing away, she grabbed his hand, placing it on her stomach as she smiled up at him. “Kicks like a targ, doesn’t he?” Caught off guard by the sharp jab against his palm, Chakotay could only nod, almost missing her next question. “But what are you doing here? Tom said you were stuck playing taxi driver for the duration.”

Living with Tom had certainly broadened B’Elanna’s lexicon of obscure terminology. Fortunately, his own exposure to the man he’d asked to be his first officer made this one easy to translate. “The ambassador’s wife gave him an ultimatum,” he said, eyes twinkling merrily.

“Told him to get his sorry butt home for the holidays,” B’Elanna chuckled. “Good for her. And for us. Let’s go find the rest of the gang.” Twining her fingers tightly through his, she turned, tugging him after her as she headed off through the mingling throng.

But it proved impossible to stay with her. Groups that swiftly parted for a pregnant Klingon, closed in around Chakotay as the crew became aware of his presence. Realizing it was inevitable, he fell back on old habits and began working the room, knowing he’d eventually end up where he wanted to be. Some hearty backslapping and light-hearted ribbing with Mike Ayala and several others from Security. An exchange of well-wishes and handshakes with the gang from Engineering – was that one of Tuvok’s granddaughters with Ensign, make that Lieutenant, Vorik? Promising to visit Chef Chell’s newest restaurant venture: Delta Delights. Receiving a surprising, but nonetheless sweet, kiss on the lips from Naomi Wildman, who blushed such a pretty shade of pink when she realized what she’d done. She was blossoming from child to young woman all too fast to her “uncle’s” way of thinking. Samantha Wildman kept her kiss on his cheek and he and Naomi’s father limited their greeting to a traditional Ktarian arm-clasp.

He’d covered most of the room and was congratulating the fifth, or was it sixth, newly married crewman when a familiar voice rang out from behind him. “I suppose, now that you’re a high and mighty captain, you don’t have time for the likes of us.” He turned to find himself face to face with Tom Paris and the rest of the senior staff. Never one to stand on formality, Tom stepped forward, wrapping the older man in a big bear hug. “Hey, Chief. Welcome home.”

“Forgetting ourselves, are we, Mister Paris?” Chakotay replied, carefully schooling his features into seriousness.

The younger man stepped back, a broad grin plastered on his face. “Not on your life, sir. But, at this gathering, I prefer being just a lowly helmsman….not your second in command.”

“He’s right, you know, Captain, so relax before you sprain something.” Harry Kim grasped his hand, shaking it firmly. “Welcome home, Chakotay. You remember my wife, Libby, and my parents, Helen and Hkiro Kim.”

Chakotay winked at the older Kims as he greeted them. “You really shouldn’t let your son play with a bad influence like Tom Paris. Harry’s obviously forgotten ranks has both its ups….and its downs.” Turning to Harry’s lovely wife, he smiled and took her hand. “Admiral Janeway briefed me on your last recital, Libby. Impressive.” His opinion of her suitability to the work she did rose even higher as the young woman accepted his cloaked compliment with no more than a simple “Thank you, sir.”

“This one could give Kathryn a run for her money,” he thought, chuckling silently. Not that Kathryn was any slouch at calm, cool unflappability, but that red-headed, Irish temper of hers did manage to derail her now and then. “Particularly when she’s butting heads with a certain bull-headed Indian,” he muttered under his breath.

“Captain?”

“Hello, Seven.” He brushed a soft kiss on the tall blonde’s check, casting an appreciative eye from the silky hair brushing her shoulders in golden waves down to the pale lavender gown whose plunging neckline accented her voluptuous figure. “Has anyone told you how lovely you look this evening?”

“Fifty-three percent of the crew, sixty-eight percent of the crew’s guests, and one-hundred percent of the visiting admiralty.” The ex-borg tossed a small, triumphant smile at the older, bald-headed man whose arm circled her waist possessively before asking Chakotay, “Shall I add you to my calculations?”

“By all means,” the captain spluttered through his laughter. “You and the Doctor have been working on your sense of humor again, haven’t you?”

The Doctor, of course, answered. “I wish I could take credit for such a perfect comeback, but the credit is actually due Admiral Janeway. Seven and I overheard her using it earlier this evening on one her more persistent admirers. Of course the Admiral’s original inflections were a bit different, and Seven hasn’t quite mastered the sardonic undertones necessary to the last line, but overall – “

“Speaking of the Admiral,” Chakotay quickly interjected, cutting off the threat of one of the Doctor’s long-winded monologues, “I haven’t run into her yet this evening. She hasn’t left already, has she?”

“She better not have deserted her mother in the midst of all this Starfleet debauchery.”

Chakotay looked down to see the diminutive, gray-haired figure of Gretchen Janeway standing at his side, her expression reminding him exactly where her daughter got her lopsided grin. “Hello, Mi – ” And where she got her sharp elbows. “Gretchen….it’s good to see you again.”

“Welcome home, Captain. Give us a hug,” Kathryn’s mother replied, pulling him into a warm, motherly embrace. “We weren’t expecting you.” She searched his face. “Everything all right?”

“Everything’s fine, Gretchen. The ambassador just came down with a sudden case of homesickness.”

“Homesickness, my great-aunt Fannie. Alyssia finally threatened to cut him off,” Gretchen declared, waving a dismissive hand at both the stunned expressions and ribald laughter her blunt statement produced. “Buy a girl a drink, Captain?” she asked, threading her arm through Chakotay’s and maneuvering the two of them away from the others. “Kathryn’s in the atrium,” she whispered. “You know how she gets when she’s been in a crowded room too long.”

Dropping a kiss on the older woman’s soft, wrinkled cheek, Chakotay whispered back, “Thanks, Gretchen, I owe you one.”

“What you owe me is to actually make it to dinner this time around. One more cancellation and I might just have to have that fancy ship of yours yanked out from under you.” Gretchen shot him a saucy grin. “I do have connections in the admiralty you know.”

Chakotay didn’t doubt for a minute such a sweet, little old lady could, and would, make good on her threat. She was a Janeway after all.

Quickly slipping away, Chakotay headed for the French doors lining one wall of the ballroom. If he remembered the building’s layout correctly, those doors should lead to a balcony overlooking the atrium. Created in the years following the signing of the Khitomer Accords, this enclosed pocket of lush, coastal rainforest occupied an generous space situated between the original headquarters building and a much needed addition. In fact, the inclusion of an atrium in the expansion plans – if old Academy stories were to be believed – served as a peace accord of sorts in its own right. Created in the days before holographic “windows,” this transplanted bit of nature satisfied many a disgruntled admiral with a desire for “an office with a view.” Lovingly overseen by a series of dedicated Starfleet gardeners, including Chakotay’s mentor, Boothby, the atrium still served as a haven for those seeking a bit of peaceful solitude.

Slipping through one of the lace-curtained doors, Chakotay side-stepped as unobtrusively as possible the dozen or so conversing, or otherwise occupied, couples scattered around the dimly lit balcony, gradually making his way to the woven metal parapet. Below him lay a shadowy expanse of re-created forest lit only by the glow of the accent lights lining the rambling, stone walkways. At first, it was hard to distinguish anything in the darkness below, but, as his eyes adjusted, what had been indistinct shapes took on sharper detail. Moments later, he spotted a human-sized shape occupying a bench near a shimmering pool of water.

“Kathryn.”

Though still unable to distinguish any identifying features, he knew without a doubt it was her. Call it instinct, or that uncanny proximity alert the two of them had always shared, it was something he didn’t question. It had saved one or both of them on more than one occasion. Heeding its call, he mapped her location in his mind and headed for the stairs leading to ground-level.

* * *

“Kathryn. Chakotay to Kathryn.”

Her mind floating in the hazy vacuum of a light, Vulcan meditation exercise, it took a moment or two for Kathryn to refocus. Was someone calling her name, speaking to her?

“Red alert. Captain to the bridge.”

Ingrained reflexes took over and “Captain” Kathryn Janeway bolted to her feet, spinning around to snap “Report!” at the man standing behind her. A man doubled over in laughter. Caught between embarrassment and anger, Kathryn’s temper got the best of her . Never giving a thought to the end result, she put a hand on each of the broad shoulders in front of her and shoved. “Damn your sorry ass!”

With a loud “Oo-oof!”, Chakotay, son of Kolopak, hero of the Delta Quadrant, and one of Starfleet’s finest, made a firm, if undignified, two-point landing. “What the hell? If my uniform is stained, you’re paying the cleaning bill, Kathryn Janeway!”

Surprised by his fall, but enjoying it nonetheless, she asked sweetly, “Did the big, bad captain have an accident?”

Growling in frustration, Chakotay looked up at his attacker. “Very funny.” He held out a hand. “You could at least help a fellow up.”

“Do I look that – ” Kathryn began, only to pause, watching in bewilderment as Chakotay suddenly began frantically searching the ground around him. “Is this a new ambush tactic, or did you really lose something?”

“I really lost something….and since it’s a gift meant for you, you might get down here and help me find it.”

“You might not have noticed, but I’m not exactly dressed for scrambling around on the ground, Chakotay. If you describe it, maybe I can spot whatever it is you’re looking for without resorting to mucking around in the dirt.”

He looked up at her then, an appraising look that ended in a devilish, dimpled grin that set her heart to beating just a little faster….until he opened his mouth. “No, I’d say that dress is definitely not meant for this type of hunting.”

While one hand tucked a errant wisp of auburn hair back into her sleek French twist, the other smoothed the full skirt of her strapless, cobalt blue satin gown. “What’s that suppose to mean?”

“Oh, just something the Doctor and Seven told me in passing.” The rustle of disturbed foliage muffled Chakotay’s response as he resumed his search. “Something about a surly, red-headed admiral berating the admirers flocking to her side.” He turned, flashing her another dimpled grin. “Admirers she plainly had in mind when she wore that dress.”

“I wore this dress for – “

“Got it!” Snatching something from beneath a clump of fiddle-head ferns, Chakotay scrambled to his feet. “Luckily, it didn’t break,” he said as he crossed to her. “Hold out your hand.”

Curious now, Kathryn held out her hand, closing her fingers slightly to grasp the small object he placed on her palm. Not recognizing the small dome of glass resting on a wooden base, she gave him an inquisitive look.

“It’s called a snow globe. Look closer.”

Raising the globe to peer at it more closely, Kathryn’s eyes were drawn first to the small bits of white material floating in the liquid almost filling the dome. More of them covered the bottom of the globe. She was about to ask Chakotay their significance when her eyes fastened on the tiny shapes partially obscured by the white bits. “New Earth,” she said, her voice a breathy whisper.

Chakotay stepped closer, brushing against her in his eagerness to explain his gift. “Yes. See….here’s the shelter. This open area in front of it is your garden. And right here is – “

“My bathtub!”

Smiling up at the man beside her, Kathryn noted the look of almost boyish pleasure on Chakotay’s face. He’d clearly put a lot of thought into this gift. “And must have been reading mine,” she mused. Aloud, she told him, “I was thinking about my bathtub earlier this evening.”

Their eyes met and Kathryn read the question in his. “We can talk about that in a bit. Right now I want to know what all this white stuff is piled up on the bottom. Are you sure something didn’t break….it’s almost burying the shelter.”

Chakotay carefully lifted the globe from her hand, shaking it gently before setting it back.

“Snowflakes!”

“Hence the name snow globe.”

“Hush,” she scolded him, batting his shoulder with her free hand. “I suppose you’ll just laugh if I tell you I was also thinking about snowflakes earlier today.”

“Before or after the bathtub?”

“After….no, before. . . .” Kathryn hesitated, a frown wrinkling her brow as she tried to get the sequence straight in her mind. “It started with one of those old songs Tom likes, it was playing in the background when he called about the party this morning. It’s the one with the line about ë _Snowflakes that stay on my nose and eyelashes_ …..'”

”My Favorite Things from the musical The Sound of Music. “

Kathryn just gaped at him in amazement before shaking her head. “I’m not even going to ask.”

Mimicking his earlier movement with the globe, she cradled it in her hands, focusing her gaze on the mesmerizing swirl of snowflakes within it. “As I was saying, for some reason that line stuck in my head….probably because it was actually snowing when I took Missy and Callie for a walk. Anyway. . . .”

Admittedly, it was a rather rambling narrative, but so were the thoughts and feelings she was trying to relate. Jumping from song lyrics and parties to bathtubs and strained relationships and on to the great outdoors and her epiphany about the symmetry of snowflakes wasn’t exactly a linear progression….was it?

Kathryn paused, falling silent as she ran back through what she’d been saying to Chakotay. There was something there, something lurking on the edge of awareness. Something that would make all the pieces fall into place if she could only grasp it. Pieces….snowflakes. Perfect symmetry….bits melting. Feeling unbalanced….no longer a snowflake. Take away part….you unbalance the whole.

“You unbalance the whole,” she repeated, whispering the words aloud. Without warning, tears welled up in her eyes, brimming over to course down her pale cheeks.

“Kathryn? Dammit, Kathryn, talk to me. Sweetheart, what’s wrong?”

Strong arms enveloped her, pulling her against a broad chest, and in some part of her mind, Kathryn was comforted by the anxious concern – and was that tenderness? – in Chakotay’s voice. But the part of her mind still trying to wrap itself around this sudden, startling insight didn’t have time for comfort and reassurance. Not now. Not with all she needed to explain to him.

Pulling out of his embrace, she swiped at her wet face, keeping the globe grasped tightly in one hand. Hiccupping softly, she placed the other hand on his chest, took a deep breath and raised her eyes to meet his. “If you take away a part, you unbalance the whole,” she stated. “That’s exactly what we did to our relationship, Chakotay.”

The sweeping blue lines of his tattoo distorted as the big man frowned, trying to ferret out her meaning. Ruefulness replaced the frown as understanding dawned. “The feelings we wo….couldn’t acknowledge.”

“Yes.” Thank goodness she hadn’t had to spell that out for him, this was proving hard enough as it was. “Those feelings we had for each other, the ones we buried so deep, so long ago….they’re like one of the arms that make up the symmetry of a snowflake. Take away one of the arms and you lose the essence, the dynamic if you will, of what makes a snowflake a snowflake. Or, in our case, a relationship a relationship.”

“By which you mean, if I’m following you correctly, a balanced relationship.”

Kathryn nodded, giving him a lopsided smile. “I always knew you were a smart man.”

“It’s why they made me a captain,” he quipped, returning her smile with one of his own.

But their lighthearted banter was short-lived as Kathryn, her voice shaded with fluctuating emotions, plunged back into the heart of the matter. “Chakotay, is it possible the only reason our friendship went through so many up and downs over the years is because we messed with that balance? Did we really believe we could take away such an intrinsic part of the dynamic between us and expect it….us to function just as well without it?” Her hand thumped his chest. “I’m a scientist, dammit. I know bypasses are only temporary fixes.”

Chakotay cupped her chin with a warm hand, his thumb gently stroking her cheek. “There you go again, wanting us to think with our heads, Kathryn. If you ask me, thinking with our heads is what got us into this mess in the first place. Our hearts never thought burying our feelings was a smart thing to do, did they?”

She closed her eyes. “No, no they didn’t,” she answered in a husky whisper.

“Comparing a snowflake to a relationship….head thinking or heart thinking?”

She smiled, her eyes still closed. “Heart.”

His hand tugged at her chin, lifting it slightly. Opening her eyes, she found herself staring into the dark, coffee-colored depths of his, shivering slightly as he asked in a husky whisper that rivaled her own, “Deciding to regain our balance and see where this relationship can take us?”

“Heaven….I mean heart.”

Chakotay’s deep chuckle echoed through the atrium as he pulled her close. “I think you had it right the first time, Kathryn,” he said just before his lips covered hers.

* * *

“Kathryn? Kathryn, I know you’re here somewhere.”

Lost in the sensations Chakotay’s kisses were evoking, Kathryn decided the voice she heard was just some musty bit of leftover repression that hadn’t gotten the word yet. Why it chose to manifest as her mother’s voice was a debate best left to the psychologists. She was more concerned with where those marvelous hands of his were roaming and why hers couldn’t quite –

“Kathryn, did Chakotay find….Oh….I guess he did”

Oh good lord! That was definitely her mother’s chuckle. Unable to extract herself from Chakotay’s arms – the cad was obviously enjoying this and refused to loosen his hold on her, Kathryn twisted around as best she could and fixed her mother with a glare. “What are you doing here, Mother?”

“I could ask the two of you the same thing.” Chakotay wasn’t the only one enjoying this. “And, Katie, drop the glare. You’ve never perfected it.”

While an elbow to the ribs might silence the laughing man with the death wish, getting the upper hand with her mother wasn’t as easy. In fact, she couldn’t remember ever getting the upper hand with her mother. Sighing in resignation, Kathryn asked, “Was there something you wanted, Mom?”

Gretchen’s demeanor visibly softened. “I’m an old lady, Katie, and it’s getting late. I was hoping you and Chakotay were ready to head back to Indiana.”

It really shouldn’t have surprised her when Chakotay spoke before she had a chance. “Katie and I were just discussing where to spend the night. Indiana sounds fine to me.”

“Good, that’s settled. Just remember, son, you can miss breakfast, but don’t forget what I told you about dinner.”

Good grief, was the man actually winking at her mother? After brazenly implying he was planning on sleeping with her daughter? Not that her mother seemed anything but pleased at the notion. She even tossed back some sly innuendo of her own – missing breakfast indeed. Yet the warmth in Gretchen’s voice when she called him son was unmistakable. Did Chakotay realize what he was letting himself in for?

For that matter, did she? Life with Chakotay and her mother? What was that going to be like?

Startled by the familiar tingle signaling the start of transport, Kathryn came out of her reverie to find herself standing on the main transporter platform in the foyer of Starfleet Headquarters. Distracted by the interplay between her mother and her soon-to-be lover – the transporter wasn’t the only thing making her tingle at the thought of Chakotay as her lover – she hadn’t even noticed when he’d put an arm around both her and her mother and escorted them from the atrium. “Though I think I remember them laughing about something….someone?”

Life with Chakotay and her mother. Well, one thing was for certain, it promised to be as predictable as an unstable weather front. “I wonder if it’s still snowing,” she asked no one in particular as she disappeared in a shimmer of swirling molecules.

_Snowflakes that stay on my nose and eyelashes_ …..

***THE END***


End file.
